A Dying Bird
by daleksanddeerstalkers
Summary: He supported the revolution. He turned her into the Mockingjay. And he will pay for it. A story about Cinna's last hours
1. Mockingjay

"So, what am I wearing tonight?" she asks, eyeing the garment bag that holds my newest design. "President Snow put in the dress order himself," I tell her. I unzip the bag, revealing one of my wedding dresses. Heavy white silk with a low neckline and tight waist and sleeves that fall from her wrists to the floor. And pearls. Everywhere pearls. Stitched into the dress, in ropes, forming the crown for the veil. It's my favourite design, and seems to be the most liked by people, too, as shown in a voting in the capitol. "Even though they announced the Quarter Quell the night of the photo shoot, people still voted for their favourite dress, and this was the winner. The president says you're to wear it tonight. Our objections were ignored." I explain as I see her disbelieving face. She rubs a bit of the silk between her fingers and after a long pause, she says "Well, It'd be a shame to waste such a pretty dress."  
I help her carefully into her gown. Her shoulders shrug slightly as it settles on them. "Was it always that heavy?" she asks, surprised by the weight of the dress.  
"I had to make some slight alterations because of the lighting." I answer, which is a lie.  
When President Snow issued Katniss wearing her wedding dress I first tried to change his mind, but since this didn't work, I went back in my studio, hoping to find a way to avoid the president's order. I had a lot of work until I finally had what I wanted.  
She nods at my explanation but I can see she doesn't quite believe me. I don't know why I don't tell her the truth. Maybe I'm afraid she would not be pleased if she knew what we planned her to be.  
I deck her out in the shoes and the pearl jewellery and the veil. Touch up her make-up. Have her walk to check I didn't forget anything. She looks gorgeous, just like I imagined. "You're ravishing," I tell her. "Now, Katniss, because this bodice is so fitted, I don't want you raising your arms above your head. Well, not until you twirl, anyway." I give her as final instruction. "Will I twirl again?" she asks me. I thought about this too. Without her twirling, all my work was useless. But I came to the conclusion that Caesar will ask her to twirl anyway, so I didn't waste many thoughts about it. "I'm sure Caesar will ask you," I answer. "And if he doesn't, you suggest it yourself. Only not right away. Save it for your big finale." I add. "You give me a signal so I know when" she proposes. "All right" I say, although I think she will figure out herself. "Any plans for the interview? I know Haymitch left you two to your own devices" I want to know. "No, this year I'm just winging it. The funny thing is I'm not nervous at all." She answers with a slight smile and I believe her. Both of her interviews last year were fairly good, so why bother to practise more?  
We meet up with Effie, Haymitch, Portia and Peeta at the elevator. We get in and ride downstairs, where Katniss and Peeta will meet the other tributes. When we arrive, we have to split up, Katniss and Peeta have to wait offstage while we are supposed to take seat on the tribunes. I can hear the other tributes fall silent as Katniss and Peeta enter the room and I'm pretty sure they're all staring at her dress, not sure if they should be jealous or sorry. We take seat on the tribune and wait for the interviews to begin. Finally, the first tribute get onstage, sits down on her chair and Caesar Flickerman starts to interview her. One after another, they take seat, answer questions, ask for a change of the **game** rules, question legality of this quell and leave after their time is up. By the time Katniss is introduced, the audience is an absolute wreck. People have been weeping and collapsing and even called for a change. The sight of Katniss in her white, silk wedding dress causes a riot. Even Caesar's professionalism shows some cracks as he tries to quite the crowd.  
"So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you d like to say?" he asks. Katniss answers with a trembling voice "Only that I'm so sorry you won't get to be at my wedding... but I'm glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn't it just...the most beautiful thing?" Without looking at me, she knows this is the right time and she begins to twirl slowly, raising her sleeves of her gown above her head. I see her dress begin to burn, smoke rises up around her. The crowd begins to scream as the smoke thickens. Her dress devours, pearls clatter to the stage and charred bits of black silk swirl into the air. For a second, she's engulfed in the strange flames, and although I knew this would happen, I'm totally stunned about the effect the fire has. She seems to be completely afire, covered by flickering flames. Then all at once, the fire and the smoke are gone. She slowly comes to a stop, curiously looks down at herself. She's now wearing a dress of the exact design of her wedding dress, only it's the colour of coal and made of tiny feathers. I'm ravished by it. Notwithstanding I have designed it myself I didn't dare to imagine it looking so amazing. I can hear the audience gasping as they discover what she's supposed to be.  
I've turned her into the Mockingjay.


	2. Flames

"Feathers" Caesar Flickerman says "You're like a bird." "A Mockingjay, I think. It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token" Katniss answers, giving her wings a small flap. A shadow of recognition flickers across Caesar's face, and I can tell he knows that the Mockingjay isn't just Katniss' token, but became the symbol of the uprisings, the rebellion that is about to come. But he makes the best of it.  
"Well, hats off to your stylist. I don't think anyone can argue that that's not the most spectacular thing we've ever seen in an interview. Cinna, I think you better take a bow!" Caesar turns to me and begins to gesture for me to rise. I do and make a small, gracious bow.  
The audience, who's been stunned into silence, breaks into wild applause. And then, Katniss' time is up. She gets off stage back to her seat, passing Peeta; whose turn to be interviewed it is now. Caesar opens the interview with a few jokes about fires, feathers and overcooking poultry, and then directs the conversation right into the subject that's on everyone's minds.  
"So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?" asks Caesar.  
"I was in shock. I mean, one minute I'm seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next..." Peeta trails off.  
"You realized there was never going to be a wedding?" Caesar helps gently. Peeta pauses for a long moment, as if deciding something. He looks out at the spellbound audience, then at the floor, then finally up at Caesar.  
"Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?" An uncomfortable laugh emanates from the audience. What can he mean? Keep a secret from whom? The whole world is **watching**.  
"I feel quite certain of it," says Caesar.  
"We're already married," says Peeta quietly. The crowd reacts in astonishment. I'm confused. What's he up to? Why does he tell, what I'm totally sure is a lie?  
"But...how can that be?" Caesar asks, as confused as I am.  
"Oh, it's not an official marriage. We didn't go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don't know what it's like in the other districts. But there's this thing we do," explains Peeta and briefly describes the toasting.  
"Where your families there?" asks Caesar.  
"No, we didn't tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss' mother would never have approved. But you see, we knew if we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn't be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it," Peeta says. "And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us."  
"So this was before the Quell?" asks Caesar.  
"Of course before the Quell. I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," says Peeta, starting to get upset. "But who could've seen it coming? No one, we went through the **Games**, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere – I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?"  
"You couldn't, Peeta." Caesar puts an arm around his shoulders. "As you say, no one could have. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together." Enormous applause. I can see Katniss projected on the screen, her eyes somewhat teary, a thankful smile on her lips.  
"I'm not glad," says Peeta. "I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially." This takes even Caesar aback. Totally surprised, he asks "Surely even a brief time is better than no time?"  
"Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar," Peeta says in a bitter voice, "If it weren't for the baby." First, there is total silence. It takes a moment until it sinks to the crowd what he just said. Katniss is pregnant. As the bomb explodes, it sends accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can't ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing is.  
The audience shrieks, calls for help, moans, sounds like a herd of wounded animals. And me? I totally forgot it is all faked for a moment. Then I remember that their relationship, their wedding is just for the cameras. But still, the idea of a pregnant woman being sent into the arena fills me with anger, shock and terror.  
I can't even hear the buzzer under the noise of the crowd showing their disbelief, protesting, shouting out their anger. I only know it's over because Peeta has left the stage. I see Katniss rise, and so does Peeta, and after a moment all the other tributes follow, one after another they stand up and take each other by the hand. By the time the anthem **plays** its final strains, all twenty-four stand in one unbroken line in what must be the first public show of unity among the districts since the Dark Days. You can see the realisations of this as the screens begin to pop into blackness. This could be seen as an act of rebellion in some of the districts, encourage them to do the same. It's too late. Everyone has seen it.  
The disorder begins to grow as the lights go out. A voice tells us to go home, which makes it even worse. Now everyone tries to find his way off the tribunes at the same time. People bump into each other, I'm getting pushed on the ground, the noise of the enraged crowd swells up. I can hear Haymitch swear after me as the Peacemakers refuse to let him into the elevator that leads to the tributes' apartments. Eventually, they let him pass, but still won't let Effie, Portia and me . When they finally decide we are allowed to go up, I'm so exhausted from all the noise, the screams, the mass of people, I go to bed as soon as we arrive on the twelfth floor. My eyes burn as I undress myself and slip into bed. I can't keep my eyes open and drift into a deep, dreamless sleep as soon as I lie under my bedclothes.  
When I'm woken up at dawn I feel as if I haven't had a second of sleep. But I quickly get up and dress myself as I remember that today Katniss has to return to the arena. I leave my room to wake Katniss. Portia is already there to wake Peeta and prepare him for the arena. They both look as exhausted as I feel. Peeta gives Katniss a light kiss. "See you soon" he says. "See you soon" Katniss answers. I accompany her to the roof, where the hovercraft that will bring us to the arena is already waiting. The girl on fire starts to mount the ladder but suddenly stops and remembers she didn't say goodbye to Portia. "I'll tell her" I promise. As soon as we're in the hovercraft, it takes off and a doctor injects the tracker into Katniss' arm, so they can always locate her in the arena. Since she hasn't had any breakfast, I try to make her eat, but she refuses. At least I manage to make her drink; she must remember the dehydration that almost killed her last year.  
When we reach the Launch Room at the arena, she takes a quick shower. Then I braid back her hair and help her dress. This year's tribute outfit is a blue jumpsuit, made of very sheer material, that zippers up the front. A fifteen-centimetre-wide padded belt covered in shiny purple plastic. A pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles.  
"What do you think?" she asks, meaning what kind of arena it could be. I rub the thin stuff between my fingers and frown. "I don't know. It will offer little in the way of protection from cold or water." I say, examining the fabric.  
"Sun?" she asks and I think of a burning sun over a barren desert. Would it protect her from heat, from getting sunburns or even a sunstroke? "Possibly" I answer. "If it's been treated." Then I remember the Mockingjay pin. "Oh, I almost forgot this." I say and pull it out of my pocket, fix it to the jumpsuit.  
"My dress was fantastic last night," she says. I smile tight as I say "I thought you might like it." We sit, as we did last year, silent, I hold her hand to calm her, until it's time for her to prepare for the launch. I walk her over to the circular metal plate and zip up the neck of her jumpsuit securely.  
"Remember, girl on fire," I say, "I'm still betting on you." And I do. She's the strongest and most remarkable girl I know. I kiss her forehead and step back as the glass cylinder slides down around her. It's hard for me to let her go again, into the danger of the deadly games. When she returned last year, as a winner of the games I thought she was safe now forever. I really had started to like her. And then the Quell was announced. I barely dare to hope to see her again. That would be pretty much luck even for my girl on fire.  
I can hear her say something but don't understand the words; they're muffled by the cylinder. She lifts her chin, holds her head high the way I always tell her to, and I wait for the plate to rise. But it doesn't. And it still doesn't. Katniss looks at me, raising her eyebrow for an explanation. But I'm as perplexed as she is. Why are they delaying the launch? I give my head a small shake, which is supposed to say "I don't know either."  
Suddenly, the door behind me bursts open. I fly around and see three Peacekeepers spring into the room. Before I know they have pinned my arms behind my back and cuff me. One of them hits me in the temple with such force that I'm knocked to my knees. I can hear Katniss begin to scream, bang on the unyielding glass, trying to make them stop. But they don't. They keep hitting me with metal studded gloves. I can feel warm liquid running down my face, my arms, then I realize it is blood. My blood. My entire body hurts like hell as they drag me from the room. Katniss' screams fade. Everything becomes blurred. And then, complete darkness, complete silence as I lose consciousness.


End file.
